Rock Bottom
by littlemissstu
Summary: TW: drug use. Dean Winchester isn't taking his brother's death too well.


Whiskey burned down Dean Winchester's throat as he took a long drink from the nearly empty bottle, settling in the pit of his stomach and forcing the world to spin a bit faster. Dean blinked, banishing the tears lingering on his eyelashes as he set the bottle down and reached for the syringe on the end table.

_Dean flailed against the bonds, eyes wide and fists clenched behind his back as he watched the demon bastard heading for Sam once more, knife glinting in hand as it hovered over his little brother's body, as if choosing the right spot. Sam swallowed, but he continued to glare at the demon._

_"You son of a bitch. You touch him, I'll kill you!" Dean growled, which earned him a slap in the face at the hands of another demon. Dean barely felt it; how could he focus on any pain of his own at a time like this?_

A flick to the needle and a squirt of the liquid as Dean tied his tie from earlier around his upper arm. He watched with dead eyes as his veins began to make themselves visible against his skin, forcing the puncture wounds of the last few months to the surface. Dean's hand hovered over his arm, choosing a spot that wasn't injured, and with nothing more than a slight intake of breath, plunged the needle in.

_Laughter filled the air, sinister and cruel, and Dean could see a slight shiver roll down his brother's spine, "We'll see," the demon said at last, with a wink to Dean. Dean hissed. His wrists were rope-burned, possibly bleeding, but Dean didn't care. He continued to writhe against the bounds nonetheless, holding his brother's gaze. This wasn't happening, he had to get out of here. Had to get to Sam._

_The first scream that pierced the air forced one from Dean, Sam's eyes squeezed shut, cutting off the eye contact. Whoever said that true fury tinted vision red was a damn liar, because Dean was nearly blinded by white-hot, blood boiling hatred and anger. Sam's shoulder bled profusely, and as Dean thrashed against the binds, Sam was forced to his knees as the demon twisted the knife and ripped it out. Dean yelled out again, watching his brother's nearly unconscious form._

It wasn't unpracticed; Dean had done it too many times for his liking. Soon, the liquid was coursing through his veins, whatever substance Dean had managed to get his hands on this time. It didn't matter anymore. He emptied the syringe and pulled out the needle slowly, setting the syringe back in its original spot, untying his arm and laying back on the bed, throwing his arm over his eyes as he waited for the substance to take effect.

_Hours. Hours of the demon slicing his brother up, reminding Dean of Hell with each sickening piece of skin that fell to the ground. Sam never passed out, Dean never stopped fighting, but it soon became apparent to the elder Winchester that his brother was dying. _

_As impossible as it was for Dean to turn away, he did it. He stopped watching. There was no way to help Sam by just shouting profanities at the demons and scarring his wrists. One of the demons grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head up to watch, and Dean felt around behind him for something to get free. A rusty nail, that would work. _

Dean sighed as his head swam, mixed with the alcohol. His body started to relax, although his heart was racing. Heroin, maybe? Meth? Dean wasn't sure. All he knew was that he felt _good/_. Dean's arm fell off his face, his head turned to look in the mirror on the other side of the wall. His face was sullen, his skin pale, his body too skinny for his liking. Dean didn't care. This was the face of a man who had given up on life, and he deserved it. He swallowed as his heart raced even faster, and Dean realized that he had measured out at least 3 times as much of the substance than usual.

Good.

_He hacked away at the bonds as Sam's screams filled the air, each one shattering Dean's racing heart, and the demons were too busy laughing and slicing and burning to notice. Once the bonds were cut, Dean was up in an instant, fighting. He got his blade back from the one holding him and killed him. He turned back with a sort of animalistic fury to the demon holding his brother._

_One slice, that was all it took. That was all Dean saw. A glint of silver, a knife plunged into Sam's diaphragm, blood pooling around him. "NO!" Dean screamed, and in one quick stab, the demon was dead. Dean was at his brother's side before the body even hit the ground._

His mouth was filling up with too much saliva, too thick to be healthy. Dean swallowed it down, but soon it became too much. The bubbly saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth, his muscles began to tense over and over again, and Dean's eyes slid closed as the bed rocked under his spasms.

_"Sam? Sam!" Dean found himself repeating his brother's name over and over again. He was making a gurgling noise, his eyes wide open, and Dean could tell that his brother wasn't focused on him. He cradled Sam's head in his hands, blood squishing under his fingers, "Sammy, please," Dean begged, his hands combing through his brother's long hair, "You can't leave me like this, you son of a bitch! Fight, dammit!" Dean yelled, tears running hot and fast down his face as he pressed a hand to his stomach, the knife still impaled._

Dean's fists clenched around him in the sheets, his knuckles white, and Dean's toes curled in his shoes as the spasms became more prominent, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest.

_Sam blinked, trying to focus. Dean nearly sobbed with relief at his brother's response, "That's, it, Sammy. Stay with me," he encouraged, and Sam's mouth opened. He mouthed something at Dean, and Dean shook his head, "Save it, Sammy. You'll be fine," Dean insisted. Sam's hand somehow managed to slide up to Dean's on his stomach, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth as he fought for breath._

Dean couldn't breathe, his eyes rolling back into his head.

_The light was leaving his eyes, but Dean refused to see it. He pressed harder and continued combing his fingers through Sam's hair. Sam opened his mouth again, and Dean watched his lips, didn't try to stop him. Even Dean could see that it was too late._

Another thrash on the bed.

_"I'm sorry," Sam mouthed, unable to speak. Dean let out a sob and clutched Sam, shaking his head._

A flap of wings next to him.

_"No, Sammy, please..."_

"Dean!" the angel's voice called.

_Sam's eyes rolled back into his head and his lids slid closed. His hand on Dean's loosened, his breathing stopped. _

Fingers on his forehead, his head clearing.

_Dean screamed and clutched his brother, feeling for his pulse. _

Someone was shaking him.

_The pounding under his fingers stopped._

A desperate slap to his face. He was coming back.

_"Sam...no..." Dean sobbed, clutching his brother to his chest. Another scream ripped from his throat, up to the Heavens, and Dean continued until his voice couldn't._

His eyes slid open, revealing Castiel kneeling over him.

_"Sam, I'm sorry," Dean whispered when he was done, "I'm so sorry..."_

Dean propped himself up on his elbows, wiping at his mouth, and Dean shook his head.

"I failed, Cas," Dean's voice broke, and he clutched the angel's trench coat, sobbing into the fabric.


End file.
